


Wrasse

by mercurysensei



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-07-28
Packaged: 2018-04-03 07:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4092346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercurysensei/pseuds/mercurysensei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meeting your soulmate was supposed to be one of those truly special, time-stopping moments that lived on forever in the memory of you and your mate.</p><p>Things don’t work out quite like that for Hirakoba Rin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Meeting your soulmate was supposed to be one of those truly special, time-stopping moments that lived on forever in the memory of you and your mate.

Things don’t work out quite like that for Hirakoba Rin. 

He’s working in his grandmother’s pet shop when it happens. They call it a pet store, but they only sell fish.

 _Who would want anything else for a pet?_ his grandmother always says. Rin can’t disagree.

Rin methodically shelves colored stones and sings to the fish. He doesn’t like grouping the stones together. When the stones alternate between neutral grays and the more lively, sparkling colors, he thinks it pleases the fish most. He’s considering whether to add a ship or a mermaid to a tank of small, electric fish when destiny takes him by the scruff of the neck.

“I want the creepy one.”

Rin turns around, a mermaid in one hand and a ship in the other. The first thing he notices is that he has to look slightly down on destiny.

“You’re short,” Rin observes.

He seems so dull and unimpressed that Rin wonders, half worried and half hopeful, if he’s not really the one. But when the dark-haired boy steps up to the fish tank for a closer look, Rin sees the scrawl, choppy and rolling like the ocean waves, just behind the black-haired boy’s pierced ear: _you’re short._ He wants to reach out and touch it. In TV programs, this was the point at which they would show off their tattoos and make eyes at each other.

The boy turns and stares at him instead. His flat, green eyes remind Rin of kelp. "That one, specifically," he points to the dodgy yellow fish wriggling around inside the castle.

Rin laughs. He readies the bag and picks up the scoop. The fish is slippery and tries to avoid him, but Rin more skilled. He catches it and hands it over to the intruder.

"I'll name it Hirakoba," he says, when Rin hands him the fish. He must've read the name tag on Rin’s shirt.

"It's a good name," Rin agrees.

The boy leaves with Hirakoba the Creepy Fish. Rin never asked for his name.

Later on, he dangles his legs in the East China Sea next to Chinen Hiroshi, who picks him up from the shop every Thursday to sit on the land bridge with fishing rods and pretend that they’re going to catch something for dinner.

"I met him today."

"Oh? ...the Creepy One?"

"Yeah."

Hiroshi has known Rin his entire life, as friends and a little more. His eyes and fingers were well familiar with the words _I want the creepy one_ written plainly on Rin’s inner thigh.

"I told him that he's too short."

"...Is he? Shorter than me?"

“Yes,” Rin sighs tragically at the rolling waves. “Shorter than _me_ even.”

Hiroshi is silent. Rin considers how he would feel if Hiroshi found _No Speed, No Life_ tomorrow. “I never asked his name,” Rin adds, not sure if that will make his friend feel better. They’re not boyfriends, but they share a home and they’ve shared their bodies so many times that Rin once felt sure that the deity in charge of soulmates screwed up.

He’s not really sure of anything right now. If only he could simply belong with the sea.

“...Will you see him again?”

“I don’t know,” Rin answers honestly. “I don’t think he’s from around here.” At least, not if the Kansai-ben is any indication; maybe Creepy Fish is yakuza. No, a yakuza would have bought a much more stylish fish.

Neither Rin nor Hiroshi catch any fish, but they do go home and fuck so many times that even the students in the apartment next door are impressed enough to bang on the walls. Sore and smug in the aftermath, Rin drops his head against the already sleeping Hiroshi and stares at the ceiling. It doesn’t matter if he sees the Creepy One again. Not really. Hirakoba Rin has a choice, not a destiny.

The next morning, he sits on the wall overlooking the beach and eats conbini kelp salad. The waves are gorgeous today, but Rin regrets not getting out earlier to ride out the sunrise. His friends are impressive to behold all the same. One of them spots him and waves. Rin reaches a hand up to wave back only to collide painfully with a gray parasol.

“Whoops! Sorry sorry!” A friendly blond smiles sheepishly down at him. Not a natural blond. Because Rin can only barely see his roots, he decides to forgive him for knocking down his lunch. “Can I get you a new lunch?” he points over his shoulder at the convenience store.

“Hah, I guess Ill let you,” Rin smiles until the man’s accent hits his ears. But by then, the blond has already entered the convenience store. He sighs, because Kansai is following him. It’s not like he’s even properly been anywhere in Kansai except for Wakayama.

“Pick out anything, seriously,” the kansai native insists and Rin just can’t stay mad at all. He picks up another salad, some shrimp chips, and a bottle of mugi-cha. The blond adds an omiyage package of beniimo and pays by credit card. Rin can see that his name is Oshitari Kenya. “I’m Oshitari Kenya, by the way,” he says, handing over the bag of Rin’s lunch.

Rin feels a little sneaky for looking at his credit card. “Hirakoba Rin, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, ahhh, that sounds so familiar,” Kenya cards his hand through his hair. His dark blue eyes squint a little when he tries to think and Rin thinks it’s pretty cute. If only Kenya were another five centimeters taller…

“If you follow surfing, you might -”

Kenya shakes his head. “No, no, it’s not that...hey, you surf?!”

Just like that, Kenya stops caring where he heard Rin’s name, and that suits him just fine. They chat about surfing, about the techniques that Kenya is trying to learn, about the best beaches to visit, and the next thing he knows, he agrees to have lunch with Kenya on the beach.

“So what brings you to Okinawa. The surfing?”

“I kinda wish! No, my friend’s a guitarist. He had a gig down in Naha and well, he’s not the kind of person that you can just leave alone.”

Rin kind of understands. He imagines Hiroshi casually popping somewhere for the weekend and simultaneously worries about whatever mess he’d have to untangle for his sulking friend in the aftermath.  
“Too bad. If I knew, I definitely would’ve come,” if only for the free bar entry and free drinks. His fish don’t care much for rock music.

“It really is too bad, they played a great show. But we’re only here until tomorrow,” they walk together toward a prone figure in the sand. Kenya’s friend, Rin assumes. Maybe a guitarist in a band would be taller. “OOH! I know where I’ve heard your name before. You’re the fish!”

“I’m the...what?”

“Hirakoba, the fish.”

Rin swims superbly, but no one has ever called him a fish before. He opens his mouth to correct Kenya a second time when he notices the prone figure in the sand. Kenya’s friend is the Creepy One.

Kenya puts the gray parasol down next to him and he realizes that all people from Kansai knew each other in some way, for some reason.

The Creepy One doesn’t look quite as creepy curled up on the sand, but he does look pale and vulnerable in only a tank top and shorts. The sun has already preyed on his shoulders and face. Though Rin wants to shake him awake, his earbuds are so loud that he can hear the drums from where he stands.

“Oh,” Rin says eloquently, trying to decide whether or not Kenya knows about the red string tied between him and his friend.

“What a coincidence, right!” Kenya grins. Rin sighs with relief.

“Hnnng,” the Creepy One says, and rolls slightly. One of his earbuds slips out. A frisbee comes dangerously close to whacking the prone boy upside the head, but Kenya is fast enough to catch it.

Racing over to the group of kids, Kenya says, “Oi, be careful where you throw that thing!” The chiding, however, is gentle enough for the kids to accept him. Before Rin can even say the word _lunch_ , Kenya is playing frisbee with the elementary school kids.

Rin sits next to Creepy Boy. The wind plays with his black hair and Rin figures that it’s full of sand. His eyes move again to white, burning skin. A tube of sunblock sits uselessly on Kenya’ towel. Before Rin even really knows what he’s doing, he picks up the tube and warms the lotion in his hands. Briefly, he considers writing his first name in sunblock so that everything burns except for the place he touched. He doesn’t stop considering it as he rubs the lotion into smooth, reddening skin.

The boy doesn’t show that he’s awake until Rin is tracing his straight nose with sunblock. He opens his eyes and Rin refuses to be startled.

“How’s Hirakoba?” Rin asks, not stopping in his task.

The boy blinks and stares dully up at him. “Fine. In the hotel room.”

An excited whoop cuts through the air. “No speed, no life!” Kenya screams and races. Someone threw a frisbee too far from up near the conbini. It’s flying far, destined toward Hiroshi, who’s bent over and prying at the garden next to the children’s playground. Hiroshi stares and Rin has a lump in his throat the size of a tennis ball. His hand just stays put on the Creepy Boy’s face. Both of their eyes are trained on their friends hoping that -

Hiroshi watches helplessly as _No Speed, No Life_ tramples the garden. Fury fills him. Rin understands. Rin now understands what it feels like to have someone come in and ruin _everything._

“GET OUT!” Hiroshi screams.

Kenya looks frozen. Rin wonders what it’s like to go your entire life with the words _GET OUT_ printed on your skin. The creepy one doesn’t seem quite so unfavorable now. After waiting his whole life to be rejected, Kenya reacts with the full lifetime of stored up anguish. He runs as fast as he can, spraying Hiroshi with sand and disappearing from the beach in seconds.

Hiroshi, on his hands and knees, clutches at the dirt. Rin exchanges looks with the Creepy One. They go after their respective friends.

Rin puts a hand between Hiroshi’s shoulder blades, over the words _No Speed, No Life_ written in red, lively italic.

“I hate him,” Hiroshi says.

“I know.”

“I’m not going to Osaka,” his fingers root into the ground, protesting the very idea.

“Okay.”

They go to Osaka next weekend.


	2. Chapter 2

Rin stops by every place in Osaka that sells supplies for fish. “I’m looking for someone. He’s short with black hair.”

Eventually, Rin realizes that this is futile. Those words describe most of the Japanese population.

Rin goes back to every place in Osaka that sells supplies for fish. “Have you seen this fish?” he shows his grandmother’s photograph of the dodgy wrasse fish.

“We don’t sell saltwater fish,” most places say. Rin never goes back to those locations. He leaves his notice for Hirakoba the Wrasse Fish inside the other shops.

Hiroshi waits outside. Rin likes that his height is so easy to spot. He reaches up and around Hiroshi’s painfully thin waist to put a finger in his belt-loop.

“Let’s go hun,” he smiles at Hiroshi, who relaxes a little in Rin’s presence. “Do you want some takoyaki?”

Hiroshi nods. Even though Hiroshi has Kenya’s full name, he hasn’t made a move to look for him. But Rin does catch him mouthing the English words _No speed, No life,_ when he thinks that no one is looking. Since Rin spends more time than he’d like to admit wondering if Hirakoba the Fish is still alive, he leaves Hiroshi that bit of curiosity.

Despite the crowds, Rin isn’t nervous. He guides Hiroshi among the throngs of people and wonders what Osaka has against heating.

They keep their eyes peeled for takoyaki, but takoyaki finds them first; a cart careens in from out of nowhere. Hiroshi is almost run over. Thanks to his speed, only his left foot suffers the weight of the cart.

Hiroshi growls at the owner, who plants his cart just beside them, as if he hasn’t caused a massive disturbance.

“Oh, scary scary, gloomy man,” the bubbly redhead makes no attempt to look scared. He laughs and begins to set up shop, making sure that all of his tools are clean before he fills the little dips with dough.

“Che, gloomy man?” Hiroshi’s gloom intensifies. It has no effect on the takoyaki chef.

“No, I’m Tooyama Kintarou!” Kintarou grins and pushes some leftover takoyaki into Hiroshi’s enormous hands. They’re still warm.

“Thanks, Tooyama-san,” Rin laughs and pats Hiroshi on the bum. “This is Chinen Hiroshi. I’m Hirakoba Rin. We appreciate the snack.”

“Heeeh!” Kintarou drops a gob of takoyaki batter onto his own leopard print shoes, but he doesn’t notice. “HIRAKOBA! WOW! I KNOW A HIRAKOBA!”

Hiroshi sullenly eats a piece of takoyaki.

Rin’s breath catches and he pulls a printed copy of the picture from his pocket. “Do you know _this_ Hirakoba?”

“Yah!” Kintarou grabs for the fish picture with his dirty hands, but Rin keeps it just out of his reach. “Hirakoba has those weird rolly eyes! I helped Zaizen carry the tank last week.”

“Hirakoba’s eyes are normal,” Rin insists, unable to keep the smile off of his face. He’s not sure why he’s smiling. “Is Zaizen-san very short?”

“Hmmm, I’m shorter,” Kintarou’s arms fly about faster than Rin can really see. He’s putting pieces of octopus into the batter.

Rin holds a hand out to about Kintarou’s height and drags it back to himself. That seems about right. “Does he have black hair?”

“YES!” Kintarou beams as he starts to spin the pieces. “HOW DID YOU KNOW?!”

Hiroshi looks like he wants to run away. Rin sticks a hand in his back pocket and squeezes.

“Do you have a picture of him?” Rin asks, trying not to sound hopeful.

Kintarou shakes his head and scoops takoyaki up into a little tray. He hands it to someone beside him; when had people started lining up?

“I don’t have a picture. I dunno, whenever I try to take them, they’re gone the next day. I think Zaizen is a ghost,” he says seriously. “But oh! His band is playing tonight! Kenya told me that I don’t have to come after last time, but I’m gonna go surprise them!”

Rin is a little afraid of what happened last time.

“Do you wanna come?” Kintarou asks.

“We just met you,” Hiroshi interrupts. Rin wonders if he’s worried about getting kidnapped by the little redhead.

“Don’t worry hun, I’ll protect you,” Rin laughs. “We’d love to come.”

“YAY YAY! Meet me in the train station at 9, okay?”

“Hiroshi and I were about to go get something to eat. Why don’t we just meet you right here after?”

“Sorry man, I have to go take a crap at home. I always break the toilet here!” Kintarou says loudly, laughing as if this isn’t way too much information for anyone to hear.

Before Rin can reply, Kintarou is nailed from behind by...a tennis ball. The collision tips over the takoyaki cart.

Kintarou screams and rips off his shirt, but he seems more pleased than distressed. The tennis ball burned a horrid impression into his shoulder; it looked like a scar already.

Rin looks beyond Kintarou to see a boy standing with a tennis racket. He holds out his hand, palm up, and glares Kintarou down. Rin would be furious too, if he had _Sorry man, I have to go take a crap at home. I always break the toilet here!_ etched onto his palm.

Kintarou immediately chases green-hair-gold-eyes, abandoning his cart and clothing. A glasses-wearing brunette is left holding green hair’s bag. Only the man’s slightly constipated expression gives him more character than the cart.

Looking up at Hiroshi, Rin smiles. “How many bands are playing on Osaka in this area around 9pm?”

Hiroshi shrugs.

They go back to Eishirou’s one room apartment. Their friend is out, most likely still at the library studying for exams.

Fortunately, Eishirou leaves his laptop. Unfortunately, there are too many bands playing in Osaka on a Saturday night for Rin to narrow down.

Kintarou was another dead end after all. He doesn’t know if Zaizen is the Creepy One. He doesn’t know where Oshitari Kenya is hiding. He doesn’t know why they came to Osaka at all. If nothing else, they could visit with Eishirou; too bad that Eishirou didn’t have the time of day to give them.

Hiroshi goes to take a shower. Rin watches his broad back retreat and flops onto the purple bedspread. With a sigh, he unlocks his phone and opens the app that he keeps intending to delete but doesn’t.

He hasn’t actually _used_ it in over a year, but Grindr is the best window shopping for a gay man. As always, Rin has hundreds of messages when he logs into the account. Of course he does, he’s gorgeous. His picture shows him on his surfboard, long hair blowing in the wind and muscles tensed to ride.

A message sent yesterday catches his eye. It’s from a sharp-eyed blond, unraveling the bandages on his wrist with his mouth. _Kura Kura_ advertises 182 cm. Tall enough for him to actually read the message.

_Do you have any pets? I have a fish._

Rin is suspicious. It’s an unusual opening for Grindr, mostly because Kura Kura has not included his dick size.

_I work at a pet shop, so I don’t need to take any of them home with me. ;) Did you know that fish like music? You should sing to your fish during mealtime._

_I don’t sing._

_It’s okay, hun. Fish prefer enthusiasm over skill. Just add a few dance moves._

_I’ll play guitar._

Rin pauses and reviews Kura Kura’s profile. He only finds a few pictures of a beetle and a rather enticing yoga pose. Hell, he would love to lick marshmallows off those abs.

_A saltwater fish might accept that,_ Rin types.

_Are you a fish?_

Rin laughs. _Is that a new pick up line?_

_Maybe. Do you want to be picked up?_

_That depends. Will you sing for me, Kura Kura?_

_Come to Osaka Grand Cafe at 10pm._

Kura Kura logs out. Then logs back in.

_Ecstasy~_ Kura Kura sends, then logs out again.

Rin rolls his eyes. He gets up, strips off, and slides into the bathroom. “Ne, Hiroshi, let me wash your back,” he enters the fogged up shower and molds comfortably to Hiroshi’s back.

He hopes that they’re not in for a drug bust later.


	3. Chapter 3

Rin wakes up feeling like Kintarou ran him over with the takoyaki cart. Groaning pathetically, he curls into a ball and searches for memories of the previous evening.

The last thing he can remember is sexy, flexible Kura Kura leaning over the bartop to croon _ecstasy_ with a wink.

Does not bode well. Does not bode well at all.

He needs a bath. Unfurling, Rin pushes out his limbs and punches something warm and firm. That thing protests loudly.

"Hiroshi?" he thinks aloud, but when he opens his eyes, the scene doesn't match. There are no words on these shoulders, and Hiroshi, no matter how drunk, wouldn't dye his hair blond, and his roots would be black rather than blue...

No. No way. It's Rin's turn to protest. He presses his face into Eishirou's pillow and screams out his frustration. When Rin looks up, Kenya's cute squint is fixed on him and full of guilt.

Rin doesn't feel guilty, he's done nothing wrong. But he does feel bad for how wrecked Kenya looks.

"This never happened?" Rin suggests. The previous night escapes his memory entirely, so it seems fitting enough. Except the longer he looks at Kenya the better he recalls those runner’s thighs bearing down on him. Kenya is talking, but Rin looks at the spot where his legs are under the covers.

Kenya whacks his head against the pillow and groans in despair. Eventually, he arches his back to regard Rin again. "They all saw, Rin. Chinen-kun, Zaizen...the others. You really don't remember?"

"Sorry, Oshitari-kun. I'm sure you were _very_ memorable," he says, mostly just annoyed that Kenya used his first name. For some reason, all and sundry always felt entitled to it; Hirakoba is a perfectly good surname.

"Sorry," Kenya notices. "It's just that Hirakoba makes me think of that creepy fish of Zaizen's. Last night..."

He doesn't need an explanation to understand what happened with Kenya last night. His thighs and belly feel sticky, they've made a mess of Eishirou's bed, and he's tired in that familiar, relaxed way.

Rin shakes his head. "What do you remember about the concert?"

"I know Zaizen killed it. After that it's kind of fuzzy....sorta remember Kura finding his match. But mostly...kissing you on the dance floor," mysteriously, Kenya blushes.

Rin doesn't know _Kura_ beyond his catchphrase, but he does kind of regret getting too drunk to remember Zaizen at all.

An unfamiliar device sounds off. Kenya starts. "That's Zaizen's blog!" he sounds too relieved for Rin's taste, as if he's been let off some massive hook. Rin still watches Kenya's ass as he crawls for his phone. "GET OUT" is written boldly, a word on each cheek; the bite mark on "get" belongs to Rin and he does feel slightly guilty. Slightly.

But that guilt grows when Kenya scoots in close and puts the phone between them for Rin to read.

Saturday, October 4th

I know some of you don't like these personal posts. Too bad, just scroll on. The usual memes and polls will return as scheduled tomorrow.

Something interesting happened at the concert last night. My word match came with his boyfriend. He made out with my best friend while his boyfriend and I watched. But that was not the interesting part.

As I sat there, I witnessed my high school senpai meet his match.

"Oolong tea, please."

"Oh, it's you."

Generic is in the eyes of the beholder. You might think a request for oolong tea very common, but when you own a bar, not so much.

They both understood, but only Shiraishi seemed to care. That's fine. One half caring is usually enough to move and shake the other into noticing. Not quite so with brown hair glasses (after some research, Tezuka Kunimitsu, coach to the famous deaf tennis player Echizen Ryoma). Brown hair glasses is probably the worst conversationalist I have ever overheard. Whether it's a cause or a result of having a mute charge, who knows.

Despite making me work in his place at the bar so he could try all night to make Tezuka laugh, he was completely rejected. Tezuka and Echizen will be on the 17:15 plane from Kansai Int’l to Narita, and you'll be hard pressed to get his number again. Hah.

And that's why I'm writing about this, Shiraishi-senpai. It's revenge and I'm rubbing it in your face. Now that it's 7am, goodnight.

Z

-

Finished reading, Rin looks up to speak to Kenya and pauses, mouth open, to find him across the room and staring down the window. Kenya beckons him over to share the view of Hiroshi curled up next to the vending machine around a can of boy corn soup.

Before Rin can say that he'll go down to Hiroshi, Kenya has pulled on his outfit from last night and rushed down the stairs.

_No speed, no life,_ Rin reminds himself. He leans on the window and watches Hiroshi startle and fume.

"I know, get out," Kenya says, but he doesn't get out. He wedges himself into the little space between Hiroshi and the vending machine.

Rin exhales and turns away before they start talking to each other. He needs a shower.

Kenya’s smell washed off and forgotten, Rin waits at Namba for the electric railway. Hiroshi stands a bit apart from him. Though he’s obviously still mad, he’s not as mad as he could be. Most likely, that’s Kenya’s doing. Rin isn’t sure how to feel about that. He takes a step closer and fights the urge to stick his hand in Hiroshi’s back pocket.

“I’m not your boyfriend,” Rin says. He regrets speaking, because his words sound defensive when he’s done nothing wrong.

Hiroshi grunts an acknowledgement. The train flies into the station with a rush of wind that shoves his hair backward. Rin always feels a fleeting tingle of fear when the city trains plow into the station; the monorail in Naha takes its time. The fear departs as quickly as the train came in and Rin boards without any hesitation. Hiroshi trails behind him, slouching a little as if he’d rather be shorter.

The train isn’t very full, fortunately. They easily find seats and get moving. It takes a few moments of staring blankly ahead for Rin to register that he actually knows the people in front of him. Echizen Ryoma is dozing against his coach, Tezuka Kunimitsu.

Kunimitsu holds his phone and looks at it like a crooked painting. Though he types nothing, the phone continues to flash. When he thinks Kunimitsu doesn’t notice, Ryoma creaks open a golden eye to look.

Rin wonders if the messages are from the mysterious Kura. He continues to wonder how many people around him have found their soulmates in his general radius within the last week or so.

_You’re welcome,_ Rin thinks. But neither Kunimitsu nor Hiroshi look very grateful. Ryoma doesn’t seem to care much about anything aside from sleeping. Did Kintarou know that he was leaving Osaka? Had the two of them actually talked, or did they just chase each other around all day?

If they chased each other around, it was just as well. Kintarou probably didn’t know sign language. Not that he had ever seen Ryoma use it. When Rin looks at them again, Ryoma is looking back at him with one half-open eye and the tiniest knowing creak of his lip.

Short. Rin wants to dislike him, but he can’t really.

They’re one stop away from the airport when Kunimitsu looks down at Ryoma. He doesn’t move, just stares until the capped boy somehow feels his gaze and looks back. Ryoma’s eyes flick to Kunimitsu’s phone and the coach looks marginally more constipated.

Rin doesn’t quite understand. He picks up his bag from between his legs and leads Hiroshi to Terminal 2. Hiroshi lags behind, looking at his phone; how many texts had Kenya sent him already?

Just as he thinks about grabbing some snacks from the flight, he spots a familiar man standing in the middle of the domestic side of the terminal.

Kunimitsu walks a little slower when he sees Kura in his path, but he doesn’t stop. Despite the other’s greeting, he would have continued onto security and beyond the blond’s reach if Ryoma hadn’t picked that moment to disappear. Kunimitsu closes his eyes in exasperation.

Ryoma raises a single finger to his lips and looks pointedly at Rin. Somehow, Kunimitsu doesn’t see the small tennis player slinking into the convenience store.

“Security?” Hiroshi asks. Rin wants to kick him, because he needs to see what happens between Kunimitsu and Kura.

Kura doesn’t touch Kunimitsu without permission. He doesn’t try to make him laugh either. Shifting to face the brunette, he smiles and says, “Let me help you look. We’ll find Echizen-san and get you to your gate in time.”

Kunimitsu examines Kura and, after a long moment, nods. “Thank you, Shiraishi-kun. I appreciate the help.”

“Good memory, you’ve got my name down,” Kura laughs gently. Somehow, Kunimitsu looks less constipated.

“Rin,” Hiroshi nudges Rin toward security.

Reluctantly, he turns his back on the situation to enter the line. If only Hiroshi would disappear like Ryoma, he could stay to watch the scene play out. But for that to happen, he would need his soulmate to appear and give Hiroshi a reason to sneak away. When he thinks like that, he remembers that of everyone he encountered, he made the least progress with his own soulmate. If progress is the correct word, he’s not sure. Rin doesn’t want a boyfriend. He doesn't know what he wants and he tells himself that’s perfectly fine.

When he picks up his phone in the little bin after the security check, he spots a message from an unknown number.

_Did Shiraishi show up?_

Rin knows the sender. Suddenly, he understands the purpose behind Zaizen’s post that morning.

_Yes. Are you showing up?_ he types.

_No._

Rin frowns. _I have a surfing competition in three weeks. Come down for it._

_Zaizen Hikaru_

_Fine. Come to my surfing competition in three weeks, Zaizen Hikaru._

_Do you have a charger near your bed?_

Rin thinks. _Yup. But no clothes are allowed in my bed._

_Okay._

Rin grins and tucks the phone into his back pocket. “Ne, Hiroshi,” he loops his arm in the taller man’s, “Buy me a beer.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?_

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Rin reads the text again. This is the first thing Hikaru sends after all that silence? He throws his phone back on his bed and gets up to put on his wetsuit. He can’t answer ridiculous questions like that without a good surf.

Except, even when he’s bobbing on his surfboard offshore, he continues thinking about potential dinner guests. At first he considers a famous surfer, but as a professional himself, having dinner with any of them isn’t particularly unrealistic.

He misses a good wave and keeps wondering.

Rin doesn’t answer Hikaru until after he’s showered. Most of the competitors for the surfing event have made their way into town by now and Rin will drag Hiroshi out to the bars to celebrate with them.

But Hiroshi isn’t here yet. _A tall, handsome, and rich stranger._

Hikaru responds almost immediately. _Would you like to be famous? If so, in what way?_

This question is as strange as the first, but Rin has a ready answer. _I’m already a surfer. If I can win a few more tournaments, I’ll get famous._

_You already have quite a few hits on Google._

_Oh, you searched me?_

_Yup._

Rin takes a moment to Google “Zaizen Hikaru”. No pictures come up, but he does find Hikaru’s blog and an article tying the young man to multiple iPhone and Android apps both completed and in progress. Rin has heard of some of them.

_You’re searching me now, right?_ Hikaru texts. Rin rolls his eyes. What a show off.

_Yup,_ Rin echoes. _Trying to decide whether or not your money makes you a bit taller. Just as I thought, it’s no good._

_Why should it?_

_Oh, it’s a fine substitution for some people. I’m not that easy =P_

But Hikaru doesn’t seem to mind. Instead, he sends Rin another inexplicable question: _Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why?_

Rin laughs aloud. _No. What a ridiculous habit…_

_I see. What would constitute a perfect day for you?_

No need to think too long about that question either. _Wake up, surf, hang out with friends, swim, grilled seafood, and then night swimming_

_When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else?_

Rin swallows and doesn’t answer right away. Before he can even begin to type, Hikaru sends him a second message. _It was to the fish, right?_

_If you know, why ask?_

_To follow procedure._

_Procedure?_ Rin sighs. Hikaru can be exhausting. By now, he's learned that much.

_If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?_

_Obviously, the body of a 30 year old. I could still surf that way._

_If you have your mental health, sure._

_Hirakoba skulls are hard, you know. My grandma is still going strong._

_I see, so you want to be your grandmother when you grow up?_

Rin is about to protest when he realizes that spending his final days surfing and tending to fish sound just about right. And now he can’t walk down that one particular aisle without Hikaru’s voice in his ear asking after creepy things. How troublesome. _That’s right. Problem?_

_None. Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die?_

_In an epic surfing accident._

_Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common._

_Who is my partner?_ Rin types. _I don’t have a boyfriend. And if I did, it wouldn’t be you._

_I suppose, hypothetically._

_Hm, then my partner should like the beach. Love their family. Be tall._

_You’re not tall. That’s not something you would have in common with your partner._

Rin smirks as he replies, _Taller than you._ He waves to Hiroshi as he lets himself in and helps himself to a beer. Hiroshi gives Rin a tiny, warm smile; since Rin doesn’t like beer, he only buys it for when Hiroshi stays over.

_For what in your life do you feel most grateful?_

_The people in my life,_ Rin answers easily. He can only become a professional surfer because his family and friends dote on him.

_If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?_

_I might have tried harder to get my parents to let me quit high school. Could’ve gotten a head start on surfing and become famous by now._

_Sure you would have. Take four minutes and tell me your life story in as much detail as possible._

Hiroshi gives Rin a strange look for the amount he laughs. They’re almost ready to go out, but Rin wants to reply to the message. For some reason, he doesn’t like the image of the dark haired boy staring at his phone, waiting for it to buzz.

_Hirakoba Rin, 22 years old. I live with my family and seven pet fish. I love surfing, seafood, and sleeping on the beach. I’ve known all my friends for years and I’d do anything for them. I like winning. I hate gouya and people who steal attention away from me. I hate people who play games. But even though you’ve got something up your sleeve, I don’t hate you._

There’s silence for a moment. _That’s not a story._

Rin laughs. _When you come to watch me surf, I’ll tell you a real story. ___

_I’ll wait. That’s all for the first session. You can go out now._

_So you are coming?_ Rin smiles widely.

_Chinen-kun will be angry with you, go._

With a loud laugh, Rin closes his phone and goads Hiroshi out the door with a few kicks to his rear. It’s going to be a fun night.  


-

At 2pm exactly, a text notification wakes Rin up. He groans and rolls in bed until he crashes into the body beside him. Hiroshi, he can tell by his smell; that man only drinks beer and he reeks of it. The smelly guy doesn’t move, so Rin has to reach over him to get at his phone.

He considers complaining that Hikaru started his stupid questions too early, but he supposes that 2pm is fair game after all.

_If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know?_

Rin can’t think about the future right now. Only about taking a piss. So he rolls out of bed and all but drags himself to the bathroom to do just that. He wants to throw up only because he feels too full. With a sigh, he takes a seat on the toilet and unlocks his phone to answer Hikaru.

_I guess I’d like to know when my grandmother will die, so I can spend as much time with her as I can._

Unless Rin dies first. If he has to wake up to this kind of hangover again, he very well might. He doubts he can survive another night of drinking.

_Is there something that you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it?_

As he cleans up and drags himself back to bed, Rin thinks about it. When he wants to do something, he does it. Sometimes things are just that simple. He scoots until his back is pressed up against Hiroshi’s, then he writes with a little smile.

_Haha, I used to dream about being a hero as a kid. Stopping robbers and stuff isn’t realistic unless you’re a cop._

_You could’ve been a cop?_

True. Rin can’t deny that. But he never wanted to be a cop. _I don’t like the uniforms :P_ he jokes.

_Then…What is the greatest accomplishment of your life?_

_Winning big enough to get my first sponsor! …Even if it’s for wetsuit rash._

_It must be a very useful product for you_

_Oh hush, mostly for my neck. Very important product_

_What do you value most in a friendship?_

Rin chuckles. Since Hikaru teased him about his wetsuit rash, he doesn’t hesitate to say, _Height!_

_So you don’t have friends shorter than you?_

_Just a creepy one,_ he snickers and Hiroshi stirs next to him. He can’t resist a full on laugh when Hiroshi, equally hung over, attempts to get out of bed with his too long, uncoordinated limbs. With his face flat on the carpet, Hiroshi resembles a squashed spider.

_What is your most treasured memory?_

_For my 20th birthday, my dad took me to Australia for surfing_

_What is your most terrible memory?_

_Eating an entire gouya on a dare from Eishirou, ugh,_ the memory brings back his nausea. Damn Hiroshi for hogging the toilet.

_I thought Okinawans were required to like gouya_

_Oh shut up_

Hikaru texts again, but Rin doesn’t open it. He vomits in the sink, purging last night down the drain. A hand weighs warmly on his back, rubbing in circles until it puts a glass of water in front of him. Obediently, he gargles and spits it into the sink.

“Gonna brush my teeth,” Rin groans. “Then bed forever.”

In agreement, Hiroshi collapses his spider-like form atop the bed. His body always takes so much of the mattress, but Rin likes curling into the unoccupied nooks and draping his limbs over the other man. As he crawls into bed and snuggles up, he reminds himself that he likes tall men.

Hiroshi isn’t his soulmate. But even reeking of beer, Rin sleeps easily by his side.  


-

Rin wakes up to a dark room. With a bit of groping around, he locates his phone and thwacks it with his palm until it lights up. Just past 1am. The competition is today. To quell his nerves, he opens Hikaru’s text.

_If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why?_

Ridiculous questions the day of the competition. Of course. Silly Hikaru. Or maybe Hikaru has forgotten about the competition completely. Maybe he’s not coming. He never did promise.

_Not a thing! Because I’m doing what’s most important to me_

_What does friendship mean to you?_

_A hug whenever I need one_

_That seems very simple._

_So? I’m going to steal all the hugs from your tiny body_

Rin wants to imagine Hikaru’s reaction to such a statement. But unfortunately, he can’t tell over text whether or not he’s successfully frazzled him. Hikaru continues to ask questions.

_What roles do love and affection play in your life?_

_Hahaha,_ he types, and looks at Hiroshi. If he loves anyone, it’s probably him. Even if he does, he definitely won’t say it. Not while fate plays tug of war with their twined hands. _Love’s on vacation. Affection is for fish only._

_Somewhere nice, I hope._

Laughing, Rin writes, _Nope. It can just stay buried in Antarctica until I’m 90 with the body of a 30 year old. It might be tropical by then_

_Not likely, but who am I to crush your dreams?_

_You seem like the kind of person who eats dreams for breakfast._

_Dinner,_ Hikaru’s correction makes Rin groan. What a lame joke. But he can’t help but smile a little. _I need something real in my stomach before I fill it with hope_

_What’s real?_ Rin asks. After pressing send, he realizes that it’s the first question he asked Hikaru.

_Mochi_

Rin bites his lip to not wake Hiroshi. The sun will do that for him soon enough; it’s already peeking at their bed ridden forms. _You’re going to get fat, living off mochi and dreams_

_A sacrifice I make for the world._

_So generous, Zaizen-kun_

_I try. Sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items._

_Haha, just because I called you generous…Are you trying to imply YOU or Hiroshi ;)_

_That’s not why. Whoever you want._

_Well, I can’t list five good things about you. So Hiroshi…His height, his muscles, the cute way he always does the opposite of what he really wants to, the fact that he’s scared in a crowd and immediately feels better when I’m there, and I guess…his cooking._

_Kenya-senpai will be pleased that he can cook._

_Do talk Hiroshi up for me. They’ve been chatting_

_Kenya-senpai says he only gets one word replies and pictures of leaves_

_And? That’s chatting._

_How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s?_

_Yup. You’ll meet them tomorrow. If you’re coming???_

_If I come, will you tell them?_

_Obviously._

Rin receives no reply from Hikaru. Not even after he changes into his wetsuit and prepares to secure his spot on the beach. As he scratches at the waterproof fabric, he wonders if that means airplane mode. Whether it does or doesn’t, Rin has to go now. He had intended on taking his bike, but Hiroshi claps him on the shoulder.

“I’ll drive,” Hiroshi says. Rin smiles.


	5. Chapter 5

With his back against the unfurling wave, Rin paddles urgently. Power surges beneath him; it takes effort to spring up and put both feet on the board. But when the wave bears him up over the beach, it feels natural. The power of the ocean fills his every vessel and, as he guides the board down, surges and expands. On his way into the tunnel, he laughs louder than the crowd can cheer. He cuts the wave with his board and the thick curtain of water with his fingers.

Rin rides out the wave to the very end, until it loses power and passes beneath him in the shallows. Punching the air, he screams out his victory. The crowd on the beach goes wild for him. Over the roar of his wave crashing on the shore, he hears his friend’s voices calling his name. He shields his eyes with a hand and looks out onto the shore. It takes him only a few seconds to spot Hiroshi, but he stares longer at the figure standing beside him.

What man in his right mind brings a parasol to the beach? Then he remembers. Hikaru had been on the plane after all.

Rin’s friends envelop him in a group hug on the shore. Hiroshi smiles just for him while Hikaru stands there with a face like dead kelp. Just for that, Rin gives him a big wet hug.

“Congratulations,” Hikaru says, voice muffled against Rin’s wetsuit.

“How long have you been watching?”

“Since your first run.”

“Say something next time,” Rin pulls back enough to yank the parasol out of Hikaru’s hand and throw it onto the sand. The musician frowns and pulls up the hood of his sleeveless sweatshirt. For a short guy, he has surprisingly graceful arms.

Hikaru shrugs with his graceful arms.

One of his fellow surfers drags him closer to the podium to hear the scores announced. His score on that last run had to have placed him at least in the top three. As he waits on eggshells, Rin turns to see Hiroshi and Hikaru standing next to each other. They aren’t speaking, but with those two, Rin knows that means nothing.

They look pretty friendly.

Rin misses first place by a fourth of a point, it feels wrong, but he smiles as if he got number one and makes a peace sign to his buddies. Hiroshi looks slightly troubled, but smiles back at him shakily. He gets only a small nod from Hikaru.

-

Rin half walks and half stumbles out of the afterparty. He’s not drunk. He just drank enough to console himself from the loss of first place.

“If only…just a bit sharper on that curve in,” Rin muses, walking in the direction of home. It’s a very long walk, but he doesn’t want to call a cab and his friends are too drunk to drive.

“You would’ve wiped out,” a vaguely familiar voice says from an alleyway. Rin frowns and wonders if, after all of these years, he’s developed a surfing conscience. Then he sees that it’s just Hikaru. Waiting for him in an alleyway.

“Oh, it’s the creepy one,” Rin teases and loops an arm around Hikaru’s shoulders. “You were waiting to have your way with me?”

“Mm,” Hikaru agrees.

Rin laughs at the image of Hikaru attempting to take advantage of him.

“How do you feel about your relationship with your mother?”

Scrunching his face, Rin rubs at Hikaru’s styled hair and thinks. He ignores the hard slaps and pinches that try to dissuade the touch.

“I love my mother. Why?”

“ Make three true ‘we’ statements each. For instance, ‘We are both in this room feeling ...’”

Another question out of nowhere. Rin decides to play along. “We are both standing in an alleyway in the middle of the night. We are both drunk. We are both disappointed by your height.”

Having successfully fought off Rin’s hands, Hikaru stares at him flatly. “Those last two are just you.”

As he herds Rin out of the alleyway and into the street, he asks, “I wish I had someone with whom I could share...”

“Stilts!” Rin giggles and walks in the direction that Hikaru prompts him.

Hikaru doesn’t so much as twitch. “For you, not me.”

“No, I mean that I’m nice enough to share them with you,” Rin points at Hikaru and almost trips. Stupid curb. Who decided to put a curb there? They should be fed to sharks.

“Because that’s proportionate.”

“Huh?” Rin noises. Hikaru has a supportive arm around his waist.

“You said the bit about the sharks aloud.”

“Oh,” Rin doesn’t care. He smiles and puts all of his weight on Hikaru as he walks forward. “Give me a piggy back.” 

“If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know.”

“It’s important for you to know that I want a piggy back,” Rin repeats and tugs on Hikaru’s red shirt. He likes the red; Hikaru looks slightly less pale than when he wears black.

Hikaru has given up. Rin recognizes that expression well. “If I give you a piggyback, will you answer questions seriously?”

“I promise,” Rin vows.

Hikaru withdraws his arm and steps a few paces forward. Since he’s quite short, he doesn’t have to squat down very far for Rin to jump mercilessly onto his back. Somehow, the boy doesn’t fall. He holds onto Rin’s thighs and walks.

Rin relaxes and rests his chin atop Hikaru’s head. It’s kind of like having a super strong teddy bear.

“Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met,” Hikaru recites so precisely that it makes him wonder where he’s getting these questions.

Looping his arms tighter around Hikaru’s neck, he hums and says, “I really, really like Hiroshi’s profile. It’s really troubling, because I like looking at him from far away but I want to touch him at the same time. I can never decide which one I want more.”

“Get a cardboard cutout.”

“Great idea!”

As Rin considers getting Hiroshi to pose for a cardboard cutout, he realizes that he has no idea where they are. But Hikaru keeps walking.

Is he getting kidnapped? Rin muffles a laugh against his arm. He’s being kidnapped to answer Hikaru’s ridiculous questions.

“Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life,” Hikaru asks, not minding Rin’s random laughter.

The laughter stops when he thinks about that question. Though he had so many embarrassing moments, especially trying to befriend Hiroshi, who never understood anything, he just says, “Today. It was really embarrassing to smile today after telling everyone that I was going to take first.”

“Is that why you drank so much?”

“Mmm,” Rin noses Hikaru’s hair. It smells nice; he gets hints of vanilla from the shampoo.

“Do you think you could’ve done better?” Hikaru says. It doesn’t sound like a pre-prepared question.

“No,” Rin says softly. “That’s the problem.” Could he train more? Could he grow more? Prepare more? How did he have to grow?

Rin isn’t getting any younger. He knows he will peak soon and prays to every god that this isn’t his peak. He wants _more_.

“When did you last cry in front of another person?”

Rin doesn’t have the words to answer. He cries into Hikaru’s hair and pulls at his nice red shirt all the way to the hotel.

-

An unfamiliar text tone, a guitar riff, wakes Rin. He makes a hiss of protest and squeezes his arms and legs tighter around the body pillow.

Rin frowns. A breathing body pillow? Hiroshi? No, smaller than Hiroshi. Experimentally, he grinds his crotch against the thing in his arms and inhales into the curve of a neck. It’s softer than Hiroshi and smells much better than Hiroshi, who often sweats in his sleep. He gropes his hands down the form and sighs with relief. Not a woman. That would have been complicated.

He cracks his eyes open. Hikaru’s ears are bright red, but his fingers continue to type on his phone as if nothing happened. Rin rolls his hips to Hikaru’s bottom again and is gratified to notice a few typos.

Unfortunately, he also notices that he has to pee. Rin unpeels himself from Hikaru and trudges off to the bathroom. At this point, he notices that he doesn’t have a hangover. When he mentions this, Hikaru explains that he consumed a sports drink and some painkillers before bed.

Rin wants to praise himself, but it’s probably Hikaru’s doing. He can’t remember much about last night. It’s the second time that he’s completely forgotten Hikaru. He almost feels bad when Hikaru starts up his lame questions from the text messages.

“Tell your partner something that you like about them already.”

Too early. Rin takes off his underwear and flops down into bed. Hikaru looks anywhere except for at Rin.

“My partner is very needy with all this digging for compliments,” Rin sighs. “You should pass it onto Hiroshi. I like his skunk hair. It looks like an ice cream cone when you swirl it in the water and it makes him even easier to spot.”

“What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?”

Rin scratches his crotch. It’s a difficult question. Not many things are off limits for him. “I never mess around with my hair. It’s always serious.”

“If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven’t you told them yet?”

Turning on his side to face Hikaru, Rin worries at the hotel duvet with his fingers. “I never told Hiroshi that…I wish things could be different.”

 _It should have been him,_ Rin thinks. If his wordmatch were Hiroshi, maybe he wouldn't be like this.

He’s grateful for Hikaru’s silence on the matter.

“Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why?”

A no brainer. “My surfboard, for sure,” he kicks Hikaru lightly. The man still won’t look at him.

“Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why?”

At the moment, Rin fears losing his grandmother. But that isn’t the question. His grandmother is quite old. Her death wouldn’t be particularly disturbing or unusual.

“My sister, since she’s so young. And I haven’t seen her in awhile,” it would be strange, to lose her without seeing her grown up face. “Ne, Zaizen-kun. Take a bath with me. I need help scrubbing my back,” he lies. Mostly, he wants to play with Hikaru.

Hiroshi is too big to fit in any household bathtub. They can only bathe together in onsen.

“One more question.”

“I won’t answer unless you bathe with me.”

“…” Hikaru gives him a stinkface. Rin grins and takes it. “Fine.”

“Then shoot. I’m yours to interview.”

“Share a personal problem and ask your partner’s advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen.”

Rin sighs and answers mockingly, “My wordmate is too short. What should I do?”

“Get over it,” Hikaru answers flatly.

“I’ll ask Hiroshi to reflect on this later,” Rin grasps Hikaru’s bicep and forcibly drags him into the bathroom. “But for now, if you don’t strip, I’ll do it for you.”

Rin had never witnessed anyone strip that fast in his life.

But once they settle into the bathtub together, Hikaru grasps his face and stares. He stares and stares until Rin feels hypnotized by the spokes of blue in otherwise green eyes.

“Do you love me?” Hikaru asks, after at least a minute of complete silence.

Rin blinks. “No….”

“Oh,” Hikaru lets him go. “It didn’t work.”

Rin doesn’t know exactly what Hikaru was trying to do, but he does know what to do now. He coaxes his match to turn around and scoots up real close behind him in the bath. Exhaling, Rin deflates against Hikaru and mouths at the words, his words, behind a pierced ear. Hikaru’s sharp intake of breath proves him right.

“Are you disappointed?” Rin asks as he smoothes his fingers over Hikaru’s belly. Though Hikaru is fit enough, he finds that he likes pressing his fingers into flesh. On the level of physical attraction, he appreciates a tall, muscled form like Chinen’s (if only that skeleton would eat a bit more), but that kind of embrace lacks the comfort washing over him right now.

Rin feels as though he can say anything.

When Hikaru doesn’t respond, he continues, “Do you like me?”

Hikaru is still thinking about both questions. When he shakes his head, thick hair tickles Rin’s nose. “I don’t know you.”

The purpose of all those questions becomes clear.

“But you’re trying to.”

“Mm,” Hikaru nods.

Rin laughs and hooks his chin on Hikaru’s shoulder. He nibbles at an earring until the skin reddens under his mouth.

“Stop that.”

“Nope,” Rin kisses Hikaru’s cheek. “But just so you know. I’ll never love you. Soulmate or not. You’re just…cute like a hamster, not like a lover.”

Hikaru says nothing; his mate is eyes forward and staring at their twined legs in the warm bathwater.

“Well,” Rin corrects. “Maybe if you grew a foot or so. Then you might have a small chance someday.”

“Understood,” Hikaru’s voice doesn’t shake. “Turn around. I’ll wash your back.”

Contentedly, Rin does just that.

-

Hikaru leaves on the first plane the next day. All of Rin’s friends go surfing, but he stays on the couch to fray the old jean fabric and wait for his phone to buzz. He hears his grandmother puttering around and preparing dinner. Not even the smell of frying fish makes him hungry. He decides to help all the same; his grandmother can’t reach the large plates in the back cabinet and he hates watching her climb on the rickety little step stool.

His arms are full of plates when he hears a little ping from his phone. It’s the notification for Hikaru’s blog that Kenya set up. Instead of going right for the phone, Rin makes himself set the table just the way his grandmother likes. He doesn’t get to read the blog post until after dinner.

 _Thirty-six Questions to Fall in Love Challenge Completed_ the title reads.

_The hottest meme going around spreads the idea that these thirty-six questions[hyperlink] will make someone fall in love with you. I performed this experiment on the person with the highest chance of success, my word match. Over a period of several days, he answered all of the questions. We stared into each other’s eyes for the requisite three minutes. Nothing happened._

_In summary, myth busted. You’re welcome._

Rin stares at the entry for longer than three minutes. Finally, relieved laughter bubbles up from his throat. He laughs and laughs until his grandmother pops into his room and asks if he’s all right.

“I’m fine, grandma. My friend is just an idiot.”

To successfully do the experiment, Hikaru was supposed to _answer_ questions too.

His grandmother chuckles and leaves him to his mirth.


End file.
